


Making FitzSimmons

by TreonGuy1705



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adorable FitzSimmons (Agents of SHIELD), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon divergence far in the future, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, FitzSimmons beginning, FitzSimmons for DAYS, More to come in tags that I won't spoil, One shots that tie together, SHIELD Academy, SHIELD Academy Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreonGuy1705/pseuds/TreonGuy1705
Summary: The behind the scenes stories of how Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons became FitzSimmons, told from day one at Sci-Tech.





	1. Day One

Fitz POV

Absently, I flip over the few loose pieces of paper that I’ve taken out of the SHIELD folder that they handed out to every new “cadet” here at the SHIELD Academy.

_Cadet. Like this is the army or something. I’m a friggin doctor. I shouldn’t be here. Graduated from University just a couple of months ago. Some guy in a suit approached my mum at graduation and offered “a chance to help change the world”._

Paying off my outrageous student bills and freeing her to run her shop free of that burden didn’t hurt either.

_Why am I here though?_

 My desk clock blinks to read 7:41, stirring me back into gear as I throw the folder into my bag then walk out the door.

_Sci-Tech. Where ever that is, is where my first lecture is going to be happening. Supposed to be right where I cannot miss it._

As soon as I’m out of the dormitory, the swell of similarly dressed cadets helps guide me. Suits for the Academy of Operations people, lab coats for the Academy of Communications people, and business causal to business professional for the Academy of Science and Technology people like me.

_I think I’m all right. Dress shirt, khakis, tie and a pullover. Decent shoes, my bag. Just trying to be as invisible as always. At least I’m not being followed by admirers like in Glasgow. The Boy Wonder tag does that to people, gets them wondering what’s the problem with the 15 year old kicking all them around the classroom while not talking to anyone._

_I don’t need people. I’ve got my work like I always have. Either I’ll adjust or I’ll wash out. Go start a company and make billions off my brain._

_Ahh, there it is._

My crowd of cadets has broken off to a building marked “Sci-Tech” with a sign out from informing us where the main lecture halls are.

_Primary Lecture Hall is on the first floor. Surprise, surprise._

I garb the door for the cadets behind me who have been chattering away, who pass thru without a word or look to me.

_You’re welcome. Everyone here is…robotic. Following protocol, never leaving their bubble. Leaving us without a bubble to sink or swim._

A large backpack knocks me aside slightly, swung by a large, uncaring student who scowls “Move it kid.” Before walking right into the Primary Lecture Hall.

_Just wonderful._

I sigh to myself, then slip inside and quickly try and find the seat farthest away from anybody.

_Top left corner, there’s three seats just by an row with an exit above it. Perfect._

Trying not to draw any more attention to myself from anyone, especially Backpack of Doom, I take the steps two at a time then slide into my seat and set my bag into the seat next to me.

_That’ll work. It works everywhere._

Forgetting about the environment around me entirely, I pull out my tablet, start running a scan for any microphones in the room that I can tap into so that I can record this lecture, and any lecture here in the future so that I can actually focus on what the instructor’s saying instead of constantly taking notes—

“Is anybody sitting here?” A voice asks in a Scottish accent.

_That almost sounded authentic._

“Uhm, y—” I start, before stopping immediately.

_Uhm, it’s a girl. A really pretty, well dressed…girl._

“No, no. Please, sorry— my bag. Lazy habits.” I ramble on, grabbing my bag and tossing onto my feet to make room for her.

“Thanks.” She smiles thinly, then sets her own bag down and begins unloading her own bag, an over the shoulder throw.

_Stop looking at her, you creep. Tablet. Focus Fitz._

I force my attention back to my tablet and find…

_Uhh, there’s over thirty microphones in here. I’d be able to hack into them all probably, but I don’t know who is running what mics and who owns them._

Quickly, I pull up the location of every mic, and see that they’re mostly centered on the amphitheater, with most of them in the ceiling tiles or in the walls, but some of them look like they’re in the floors too.

_That’s odd._

“Cadets.” A strong female voice sounds out.

_Weaver. I met her. She must be who is in charge here._

“You all know me as one of the people who helped you get in here to SHIELD Academy. My name, is Agent Laura Weaver and I am the Director of the Academy of Science and Technology. What you don’t know, is that now, your lives have changed forever. We all may walk down different paths, but now all the paths have converged. The choices you have made in life have brought you here, and from here, nothing will be the same. The impossible is the probable, the unthinkable should be the expected. Welcome.

We want only the best and the brightest here at Sci-Tech because that is what is required. This isn’t the CIA or the FBI or Homeland Security. They don’t believe in our impact, and we know that in the grand scope of things they don’t matter. The future is coming, and while they react, we shape it. And it starts here, at this campus.” Agent Weaver tells the room, then pauses and continues.

“Look around you. To your left, and your right. Somewhere in this room is a friend you’ll have for the rest of your life. All around the room, and memories waiting to be made, breakthroughs to be found, discoveries to be pioneered, relationships that will change your lives while you don’t know where they will go. What you need, is the proper guidance, and a little push.

Many of you come from less than ideal circumstances. I advise that you leave that at the gates to the Academy and consider this a new life. A blank slate to become who you want to become, not anything others are trying to make you out to be.

Now, as corny and forces as they seem, it’s time for an ice breaker. Find a partner, learn their name, three things about them and what their doctorate is. I’ll give you all about fifteen minutes then we’ll start our next task.” Weaver says simply, then steps away from the podium at the center of the stage.

_Okay._

I turn to look around and see that people are standing up and introducing themselves to the people next to them just before I see the girl to my left move in my peripheral vision. “Hi. I’m Jemma Simmons, Biochemist.” The girl smiles down at me, extending her hand.

_Okay then. I guess she’s my partner._

I stand up, smile to myself then look down at Jemma. “Leopold Fitz. Engineering.”

“Engineering? Well I guess that takes care of the doctorate part, even though you do look a tad young—”

“Rich coming from you.” I quip back, then soften it with a smile. “You can’t be much older than I.”

She gives me a slightly incredulous look then asks “How old are you then? Oh ancient and wise one?”

“Sixteen.”

_I win._

Shock quickly blooms on her face. “Oh.” She blurts before composing herself. “Uhm, me too.”

_ME TOO?!? Weaver said that I was the youngest cadet they’d had in years. Either she lied, tweaked the truth or she just got in here._

“really?” I ask, sitting back down. “That’s…cool.”

“Cool, yeah, cool.” She replies, sounding out of breath. “Where are you from, by chance?”

“Glasgow, Scotland. Not that that matters now that we’re over here on this side of the pond. You?” I return the favor.

“Devonshire. England.”

_Huh, the odds of meeting somebody from England like me on day one, two seats away…microscopic at best._

“Interesting.” I nod. “So what brings you here to SHIELD Academy?”

“Oh, I dunno? Just got asked here. Said I was smart, Mum and Dad thought it’d be best that I come here before getting a real job so, here I am!” She perks up at the end. “You?”

“Pretty much the same.” I shrug, self-conscious.

_She doesn’t care. I’m just the guy she decided to sit next to. No need for the truth or any of that nonsense._

“What kind of engineering?” She asks, grabbing her tablet as if to take notes on my answer.

“All kinds really, astrophysical, electrical, theoretical, anything really. It all gets my brain going.”

“You do know that the brain never really turns off, just distracted until the chemical levels stabilize when you find a subject that piques your fascination enough to really focus in.”

“Huh?” I blurt out.

_What? I didn’t get a word of what she just said._

Jemma smiles at me, but before she answers, Weaver steps back toward the podium and begins to talk. Jemma however, doesn’t move, instead simply shifting in her seat and focusing on Agent Weaver.

_When I walked in here today, I wasn’t expecting to be drawn in right away._

I sneak a quick glance at Jemma as she’s intently listening to Agent Weaver.

_And I definitely wasn’t expecting it to be a girl._


	2. Space - Time

“—furthermore, those ideals are exhibited in many of the extremist governments seen around the world. Their size is inconsequential,  because the ideals are a direct threat. Compromise on our values cannot be tolerated.” Weaver lectures up front.

_No compromise._

I make a quick note then glance to the top of my screen and check the time.

_09:37. Thirteen minutes until my first lab._

I’ve been here for a full month now, and it’s been all lectures. This course, SHIELD History, a Lab Procedures course, a Psychology 101 course that’s a pure waste of time, a general fitness class where all we do is run and a basics World History class that escalates the whole time that I’ll be here at the SHIELD Academy.

_We’re in 800 B.C.E currently, so not much is going on._

The Lab Procedures is being replaced the lab thankfully. I didn’t learn anything that I didn’t already know when I was twelve and already been in a collegiate lab for years.

_But we’ve being armed with the basics because no detail is too small for minute inspection by SHIELD. Bunch of nannies so far if you asked me. Just let us go wild. You’re forcing a race car to sit in bumper to bumper traffic in London. Might as well take the Tube._

I glance over to my left and see Simmons perched in her seat, one leg over the other, balancing her tablet while staring down at Weaver,

_I haven’t figured her out yet because she either won’t let me get a read on her, or she doesn’t care. She just follows me to all of our shared classes, sits one seat to my left in every one, never says a word other than to answer a question and sometimes say hello or goodbye to me. I think we’re friends, but there’s some days that she doesn’t even acknowledge me. And I don’t want to annoy her because she’s very, very smart._

_Corrected our Psych instructor on the levels of a specific chemical in the brain that is involved when a person gets irritated. And she was right._

“All right, that is a good stopping point for today. Before you pack up, a word.” Weaver says, drawing everyone’s attention after a split second of everyone moving to pack up.

_This is different._

“Today is your first practical laboratory course. Some of you have a lot of lab experience while others have never been truly in the lab. This isn’t about your aptitude, but your comfort. The true laboratory tests will begin to come after the holiday. Keep that in mind today. Dismissed.”

The silence is replaced by everyone standing and beginning to put their bags on, some doing so even as they walk to the door, either eager to leave Weaver behind or get to the lab.

“Are you excited Fitz?” Jemma asks happily, standing next to me as I put my tablet into my bag.

I throw my bag over my shoulder while turning to her and smiling. “Very. The procedures class has been very boring.”

“Same.” She sighs, rolling her eyes. “It’ll be good to actually do something for a change. If it wasn’t for you I think I might have fallen asleep.”

_What?_

“Pardon?” I blurt out.

_Why would I keep her awake if she almost never speaks to me?_

“Oh nothing, just difficulty sleeping. Too much reading up on my scientific journals.” She replies easily.

“Oh really, which ones carry your fancy?”

She quickly bites her lip before answering “Oh, you know. The usual ones. Mayo Clinic Proceedings, Scientific World Journal, British Medical Journal…”

“I’ve never read any of those.” I shrug.

_Biochem, all internally focused on healing instead of advancement._

“Really? What kind of journals do engineering robots like yourself read? Or scan.” She gives me a sideways look as we walk out into the bright sunlight of late summer.

“Robot? I’m not a robot.”

“Can’t tell the difference. Same seat every day, same times every day. Same foods every day. Never speaking every day. Robot.” She elaborates.

I answer hastily “I like my routines. And for the record you never talk either.”

“Because you never start the conversation and I don’t want to bother.” She fires right back as we continue onto the path to the Lab Building.

_But instead of going to the second floor today, we get to go to the third._

“Who said it’d be a bother?” I ask her. “Didn’t know talking to me would be so painful for you Jemma.”

“It’s not a bother, just that you haven’t really spoken to me since our little ice breaker. I thought we were friends, that’s all.” She says quickly, her face getting red. “Leopold.”

_She knows I hate that name._

“So in the future, I should talk more? That’s the point?” I ask, throwing open the door for her and channeling all my irritation in the process.

“Couldn’t hurt.” She bypasses the door without a look or acknowledgement before picking up the pace and leading the way up the stairs.

I quickly double check the room number before spotting Simmons, going even faster as if to prove a point as she powers up to the third floor and takes a left. “Do you know where I’m going?”

“Yes Fitz.” She sighs. “I scouted it out the day we found out the room assignment, didn’t you?”

“No.”

This time she gives me a vicious eye roll before tugging open the door, walking thru and giving it a halfhearted push for me before walking to the far back table and setting her bag down.

“Decided to join have we?” She glances up a time.

_I should probably apologize if she’s gotten this worked up about it._

“If you don’t mind. Can’t hurt to have somebody smart as my lab partner.” I compliment her, throwing a smile on at the end.

Simmons’ frown quickly flips, and her eyes dart back to her bag. “Well, if you put it like that I guess so.”

“Thank yo—” I start before she cuts me off.

“We’ll have to come up with a clever experiment. Between the two of us, I don’t think anyone else in here this can keep with us.”

“Yeah, they’re older and have slower brains.” I smile, getting a smile in return from Simmons before digging into my bag and pulling out a notebook, a couple of pens and my tablet.

After a minute, the room is filled with two or three people per lab table, but no tables with a full four. Anxiously, Simmons starts tapping a pen on her leg in a noticeable beat.

_Must be a song stuck in her head or something. I don’t recognize it. Oh wait, speaking of recognition…_

_I need to scan for microphones._

I start running my scan as a man in a lab coat walks in, takes one look at everyone, then flings his bag toward the desk at the front. “None of you thought to grab a lab coat? What sort of cadets are you?”

_Oops._

The whole room leaps into action toward the coat closet as our instructor begins taking things out of his bag as loudly as possible.

_I’m not body language expert, but I know when somebody doesn’t want to be here._

Simmons hands me a lab coat then cringes at how he sets his large drink cup down before leading me back to our table.

“All right Cadets. This place isn’t for your run of the mill smart person. I usually teach upper level labs and discourses, but I’m stuck here, so now so are you. If you need guidance to start, find it somewhere else. Attendance is mandatory but I won’t be taking attendance. It’s your life, and if you choose to throw it away getting drunk off your ass instead of focusing on your studies, be my guest. Begin.”

_OKAY!_

Stunned, I blankly look to Simmons, who looks as surprised as I feel before shrugging and begins writing something in her notebook. The room remains silent before I start running my mic checks.

_Probably won’t be needing it if he’s going to be of no use to me, but it could never hurt my ongoing investigation of every damn room having over twenty microphones in them, excluding our rooms._

I scanned my room five times, even pulling up a portion of the floorboards under my bed to double check and found nothing.

_SIXTY MICROPHONES?!? You’ve got to be bloody kidding me. Why so many—_

“What?” Simmons asks, suddenly right at my side looking at my tablet. “Are those—?”

“Not here…I’ll explain later.” I shush her, then pull up the diagnostics and location of every mic.

_Christ. Minimum of six per lab table, probably wanting to get a drop on whatever ideas cadets are having._

“Fitz—”

“I’ll explain afterward, promise.” I change the subject. “Just something I’ve been noticing. Any ideas on a project?”

Simmons hesitates, her face just a few inches away, revealing her very light layer of makeup in general, with the exception of a thicker layer trying to hide a small pimple on her cheek.

_You can’t notice it unless you’re up close._

“Yeah, you said you were engineering. Are you good with robotics? Or are you more theoretical?” She asks.

“I’m practical. Theoretical always bored me as a kid, I wanted hands on. What are you thinking?”

Simmons only smiles widely, causing me to smile.

_She’s got an idea._

* * *

 

“Dismissed.” Our instructor informs us then grabs his bag and is the first one out the door as the rest of us begin putting our equipment away.

I set away the wiring in the correct bins as Simmons neatly writes down our stopping point in clean print before slipping the paper into her bag. “Do you have plans for lunch?”

“No.” Simmons answers simply, pulling out a black marker and writing “Simmons/Fitz” on it before labeling a drawer, indicating where our experiment is.

“Well then, would you like to come with me for some tea?”

Simmons freezes up, then looks at me, blankly for a moment. “Me?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Oh.”

_She’s going to say no. I messed this up. Dang it._

“Well sure. I can be up for that.” She suddenly smiles, pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I didn’t know you liked tea.”

“Of course I like tea, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t let me thru customs at Heathrow if I didn’t.” I laugh, getting her to laugh as well.

“Now what was—” She starts as we step into the hallway

“—not now, wait until we’re outside!” I raise my voice over hers.

“Alright, alright…pushy.” She whispers back to me, picking up her pace and leading us down the stairs and outside before simply turning around and smiling up at me.

_In a very cute way. She’s a pretty girl. Damn smart as a tack too._

“Yes?” I ask, unable to hold back a smile.

“Those were microphones weren’t they? Hidden in the classroom to listen in on us.”

“Yup.” I nod as I see Simmons start to get whipped up.

“Why’d they do that? Do you think it was SHIELD? Other governmental agencies spying on their own and us? The possibilities are endless—”

“Yeah, which is why I didn’t want to talk about it with them listening!” I point out, causing her to wince.

“I’m sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Have all of our classrooms been like that?”

I nod, encouraging Simmons to hesitate in her next step before grasping her chin with her thumb and settling her index finger over her lips. The next few minutes pass uneventfully, with Simmons deep in thought as we walk to the coffee shop on campus, colloquially named the “Espresso Room”.

_They also have tea._

“Two, please.” I smile at the barista, who points us to a table by the window before I lead us to sit down as Simmons is still silent.

I check my phone really quick as Simmons glances at the menu, then discards it and returns to her thinking face.

“What can I get for you two today?”

“I’ll have a cup of your Earl Gray and some scones please.” Simmons smiles up at the waitress, then hands her menu over.

She nods, scribbles Jemma’s order then turns to me. “And for you sir?”

“English Breakfast Tea please.” I smile, then hand over my menu as well.

“We’ll get that out as soon as we can.”

“Thank you.” I smile then look back to Simmons. “I can see your brain work—”

Simmons cuts me off quickly. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“Uhm…why?”

“You’re the physics expert.” In her reply.

“I…” I start, then stop myself. “You’re asking about the hardest question man’s ever been posed.”

She somehow smiles. “With CERN firing up again in France and every uneducated person worrying about a black hole swallowing us all up, it’s been on my mind. That, and how fast I’ve ended up here has gotten me thinking about destiny.”

“How fast did you end up here?”

“Two weeks. Like SHIELD had been watching me for years and plucked me up. You?” She asked me.

“I knew they had an eye on me for a little bit, a few months. Nothing too weird, I’ve always been considered kind of a prodigy. I kind of just chalked it up to that.”

Simmons nods while looking skeptical. “Yeah, but things are clearly more than they seem. You were next to me when we heard the truth about Captain America. Chasing a guy named the Red Skull, fighting a secret organization named Hydra looking for a blue cube we now call the Tesseract. A tesseract that we have now found, then promptly disappears! By SHIELD!”

_All good points._

“Yeah.” I encourage her to go on.

“Well a lot of it boils down to CERN. Space-time, wormholes. The fabric of reality, the fourth dimension I think. Am I right? I’m a lowly biochemist, this is a bit too much for me math wise.” Simmons leans back in her chair and looks to me.

“Well, yeah I guess. You hit it right when you said perception. Time is technically an illusion we think, how we perceive the fourth dimension. Einstein-Rosen Bridges. I…I don’t know really.”

_I don’t know._

“What does this have to deal with anything? Not to be rude, I just don’t see where you’re going with this Simmons.” I ask, feeling myself getting annoyed like I do when I find a problem I cannot fix.

Simmons sets the front two legs of her chair down and smiles. “I didn’t mean to get you all worked up, but it’s just been on my mind. Like we’re all here for a reason, a collective destiny. SHIELD has a destiny, you do, I do. What it is, we don’t know. But can we change it? Am I wrong? Do we even have a destiny?”

“I think we do. Some things cannot really be explained otherwise, even though we have no proof.” I throw out there.

“Faith.” Simmons makes the leap.

I shake my head. “I’m not a man of faith.”

“Neither am I!” She agrees strongly. “But it doesn’t seem to fit otherwise.”

“I don’t know. I can barely explain it to most people.”

_I’ve never really met somebody who can keep up with me on something like this. And she’s making it look easy._

“It’s way too much mathematics for me personally.” Simmons smiles, fiddling with our napkin dispenser.

“Well, we’re just now start the study on this sort of thing. We should start getting some preliminary answers soon.”

“And since we’re SHIELD scientists, we are privy to information before the general public.” Simmons smiles at me. “I just refuse to believe that any one thing is completely inevitable.”

“That’d be nice.” I smile just before I see our drinks and Simmons’ scones start making their way towards us, prompting Simmons to glance back and smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started writing this and had the primary FitzSimmons discussion before the Infinity War trailer dropped. Which kind of throws it into a new light. Thanks for reading!


	3. S.A.M

“FitzSimmons!” Proctor calls out, holding a graded paper.

_Uhh._

“Sir? Which one? Simmons or Fitz?” Simmons asks as I feel the eyes of the entire room on us.

“Both. You received the same grade since you essentially wrote the same paper.” He comments before Simmons looks to me, bewildered then gets up to get the paper.

“FitzSimmons…” A cadet in front of me sniggers, then looks back at me and quickly rearranges his face once he sees me looking at him.

_We got a nickname. Simmons and I did, I mean._

Simmons sits next to me and shoves my paper into my lap. “This is a joke.” She grumbles angrily.

“What?” I ask before she squares up our papers and points to the top right of both where ’80 – Excellent work, needing individual thought. Was not assigned as group work’ is scrawled in red pen.

_80?!?!? Are you KIDDING me?! I haven’t gotten an 80 EVER! And not on something I turned in on time and felt confident on! There’s always a little personal discretion I factor in with grading but…_

_Forget this, I’m out._

Dismissively I grab my bag and start tossing in the paper first, then my tablet, notebook and stylus on top, then throw it over my shoulder and walk to the back door.

_I have better things to do with my time than be stuck with a instructor that doesn’t reward good thought and argument. Yeah, Simmons and I worked on your weekly paper over tea. Just because we came up to a similar conclusion doesn’t mean you get to read one and apply the same grade to both. What a joke._

I’m all the way down the stairs and headed for the door when I hear Simmons yell “Hey! Wait up!”, causing me to whip back around.

“Why’d you follow me?”

“I didn’t want to stay. Why’d you walk out?” Simmons asks me, out of breath, having clearly followed me as fast as she could.

“It’s history! Of course we’re going to come up with similar ideas on why something happened? It’s not like anything is possible in history? There’s a lot of restraining factors. Plus he clearly doesn’t have his head on straight.” I shake my head and grab the door for Simmons.

She smiles then takes a step ahead of me. “I agree, he’s wrong. You can only do so much with similar information.”

“It would have been a waste of time to stay. I can go work on our lab project or something.”

“Maybe after tea?” She smiles.

_We have fallen into a little bit of a routine. After class every day we go and get tea, then work on our project a little bit then leave before sundown._

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” I turn to her as she slows down to join my side again.

“We’re close to finishing though. I think we can almost get it knocked out. After tea of course.” She smiles.

Reflexively, I smile back. “You really want this tea don’t you?”

“Well yeah, I did just follow you out of class and all.” She says like she’s stating the obvious, then quickly shrivels up.

_Oh. She left because I did. Huh._

“Scones again Jemma?” I ask as we round the corner to the shop.

Simmons still is blushing before looking unsure. “I don’t know. Maybe a muffin. Or a piece of cake.”

“Cake?”

“Yeah!” She nods. “not too much because we haven’t ate dinner yet, but a snack to tide us over. Ooh here we are.” Before grabbing the door for me this time.

Wordlessly, the barista points us to our normal table by the window before we wave to our waitress, who simply asks “The usual you two?”

“But with a pair of muffins instead of the scones today please.” Simmons smiles at her, then hands off both of our menus as I pull out my tablet and brush off my screen.

_I need to clean out my bag. I had a granola bar in there as a snack, forgot about it and now it’s ground down and getting positively everywhere._

I fly thru the passcode screen and go straight to my curated list of articles that my program has dug up today.

“Transia Tech gobbles up another subsidiary to be.” “Ecological damage in the Amazon beginning to become irreparable, says ecological panel.” “Ellis: Artificial Intelligence still a goal of Armed Forces”

_Oh give me a break, haven’t they seen any 80’s movies?_

“Terrorists hack YouTube, forcing complete shutdown of site” “Mosque bombing leaves 28 dead, hundreds wounded.” “Radicals sects rapidly becoming mainstream in sub-Saharan Africa, UN reports.”

_Wonderful._

I made this point in that paper: Just because the world has bad things happen doesn’t mean it’s a bad place. Just that we see more of the bad than ever. That’s why on Facebook there’s always those ‘This will make you smile!’ posts that people like my Mum always like and share and ask you about when you go home.

_I’m never on Facebook, so I just see it thru email. Speaking of email, I need to see if Mum got my flight back home yet for the holidays. Otherwise she’s going to have to pay a fortune that I’ll end up working off._

“What are you looking at?” Simmons asks curiously.

My eyes skim over “Stark Industries used in Mulan-Rouge insurgency” before I shake my head. “Nothing.”

_Yeah, we may see more of the worst of the world, but that doesn’t mean stupid billionaires aren’t still stupid._

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” She says right into my ear, causing me to jump. “What site is that?”

“It’s not a site.” I say, putting some space between us, causing Simmons’s to flick her eyes at me. “It’s a algorithm.”

“Algorithm or a program?”

“A program run by a algorithm.” I roll my eyes.

Her head tilts as I see her scanning the curated articles. “How does it know what you’re interested in? Who wrote it?”

“I did.”

Simmons’ head snaps to me. “I thought you were a engineer.”

“I can program a little too. You kind of have to at a certain point if you want to be good.”

“Hmm.” Is Simmons’ response before she glances all around the screen. “All I see is bad news.”

“Our paper.” I shrug.

“I agree. The world is smaller, but the exact same. Doesn’t mean we have to constantly worry about it. When’s your birthday Fitz?”

“August 19th. Why?” I ask.

Simmons’ face suddenly falls. “In case I had to buy a birthday present. But I missed it.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.” I quickly. “What’s your birthday Jemma?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does, you just asked me about mine.” I counter and frown at her.

“September 11th.” She mumbles.

_Oh._

“Oh.” I blurt out.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter anyway Fitz. I’ll but tea today since I missed your birthday anyway.” She charges ahead, moving to sit back down.

I hold my hand up to stop her. “No no, don’t—”

“Your tea…” Our waitress drops by, setting down our tea and a muffin apiece.

“Don’t let her pay.” I quickly say, digging for my wallet. By the time I’ve dug it out of my back pocket, she’s already holding Simmons’ dining card.

_What?_

She stops briefly and gives me a odd smirk. “No. It’s the twenty first century. She can pay.”

“But I—”I start, but am shut down by her simply walking away, leaving me with Simmons as she sips her tea. “Oh don’t look so smug.”

Her smile only increases as she sets her cup down and grabs her muffin. “Can you share your program with me? So I can stop scouring the internet in all my free time. It’d make me even scarier an opponent for you.”

“We’re even on grades right now.” I fire back, picking off a piece of muffin.

“Right now. I’ll win.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes, then glance back to my tablet.

_I’ve always been first in my class, even though I’ve always been the youngest. And that’s not stopping now, even though it looks like I’ve met my match._

Quickly, I glance over the top of my tablet and see Simmons smiling at me.

_Maybe. Possibly. We do different things._

“Have you downloaded Sam?”

_Huh?_

“What?” I ask, then sip my tea.

“Sam. Shield Archival Messaging. Shield’s text messaging app for your phone?” Simmons explains before waving her phone at me.

I shake my head before she gestures for my phone. “Password?”

_Fine._

“9731.” I hand it over, then glance back at my article, titled ‘CERN slowed again by issues.’

_Oh not again._

After a few minutes, I go to sip my tea, only to get dregs and find my phone set beside me, turned off and otherwise unchanged. “Ready when you are.” Simmons tells me, nibbling on her muffin.

“I’m ready.” I reply, popping out of my seat.

“Alright.” Simmons smiles, joining me in gathering her things, then leading us out, snagging her dining card.

Once we’re outside I ask “Aren’t you worried about running out of points?”

“No, my mum and Dad said they’d refill it once I’m out. They want me to treat myself.”

“What do your parents do?” I ask curiously.

Simmons smiles. “They’re doctors. Normal old medical doctors like I’ll probably be. You?”

“They’re normal. Mum runs a tea shop back home. That’s the most exciting thing. Always working.”

“A tea shop? So you know how to make all sorts of things and drinks!” She lights up. “What’s your favorite?”

“Kind of?” I dismiss her excitement. “It’s been a side job when Mum’s shorthanded. I do the drinks and she bakes. But she can do both, it’s her baby.”

“In Glasgow?” She asks, and I nod, grabbing the lab door for her. “I’ll have to stop by some time.”

“Not that exciting. There’s multiple of them around. Maybe in Devonshire, I dunno.”

_I don’t have all of Mum’s shops memorized.  Just London, Cambridge, Manchester, Stoke, Oxford, St. Andrews, Burnley, Queens Park and a few others._

“What’s the na—.” She starts, pulling open the door to our normal lab, only for machine parts to be scattered everywhere with a bunch of notes at our normal lab table.

 _“WELCOME TO SHIELD FITZSIMMONS!!!”_  is spelled out, along with pink hearts all around it.

_They destroyed our prototype…_

The air comes right out of me and I swat a component off the nearest corner, where it was blatently placed there.

_Shield…they have a history of pranks. Somebody down the hall from me had their whole room filled with the popcorn packing material things. I guess this is ours. Hitting us where it hurts us._

Our project.

_And Simmons…is a friend. She’s alright looking, but her brain is so smart and she’s cool. Can’t a guy and a girl be friends? I don’t care that she’s a girl, she’s a cool person._

“I guess we’ll have to rebuild, or start all over.” She frowns, snatching up the notes and throwing them into her bag. “I vote the library, tea and new ideas. Maybe something about all these STUPID mi—MISTAKEN PRANKS!!!”

_JEMMA!!_

I frown, grab her shoulder and basically shove her out the door then close it behind me. “Do you want them to know?”

“Sorry! I got upset.” She hangs her head. “Library?”

“I guess. Can’t fail out of here.” I shake my head, then let Simmons lead the way.

* * *

 

Simmons’ phone gently plays the generic boy band pop song about burning bridges and making wishes and their “baby” and falling head over heels while I tinker with our idea outline.

_We’re taking the tech that found all the microphones and supersizing it into a robot meant to sniff out all surveillance equipment._

A gentle knock on our study room door causes both of us to look up and see a monitor glancing at us. “Library’s closed.”

“Oh! Oops! So sorry!” Simmons leaps to her feet as I start gathering my stuff as fast as I can under our monitor’s nose before he escorts us all the way outside, past the late night crew.

_I guess this is the first time I’ve shut this library down. It’s sort of strange that it does actually close. So much information that you never know when you’ll need access to it._

The escort leaves us with a curt “Good night” before shutting the door with a snap, leaving Simmons and I in the dim light. “I’ll walk you home since its late if that’s okay.” I offer, then smile.

_Now is the time I don’t want to force myself on her._

“I’d appreciate that, a big strong man like you walking me home.” She says, almost teasing.

I laugh, then hang my head. “No, but I can yell for help. Which is kind of the same thing.” Which causes Simmons to giggle and lean into me.

“Oh Fitz…I really like our new idea. I’m almost glad they destroyed our prototype. It made us think again.”

“I was just thinking that. It wasn’t a remarkable device. This could be.”

She smiles under the starless night. “Yeah, might be able to sell it and make some real money.”

“Or keep it and patent it. Fitz Surveilance.” I throw out there with a laugh.

“You might need to work on the name.” She smiles. “And that’d be a waste of your doctorate.”

“I guess so.” I consider.

_Yeah, all that physics work only to put it into surveillance. Not my best idea._

“This is me.” Simmons stops in front of the largest hall and turns back to me. “This building. Me.”

_Already? I was wanting to talk more._

“Oh, okay. Well thanks Simmons. It was a treat.”

“Same.” She smiles at me, before we both fall silent for a moment.

_Should I hug her, wave bye…? I don’t know._

“Bye.” I blurt out awkwardly, then turn to walk home.

“Night Fitz.” She says, her smile sounding like it wavered slightly before I hear the crunch of the gravel under her sneakers.

_Boy did I mess that ending up. Now she’s going to be all weird around me. I should have just said goodbye and been done with it._

_That psychiatrist Mom sent me to after school one day always said I never tried to have friends. It’s not that. It’s that when I try, I’m weird. It’s always better when I don’t think._

Dejectedly, I flash my ID card at the scanner and the door clicks so I can begin climbing the five flights to my room.

_Hopefully it’s not too weird tomorrow. It’s Friday, and I never see Simmons on the weekends._

I climb the stairs as fast as I can, then fish out my keys to let myself into—

_Buzzzz…Buzzz…_

That’s weird, my phone.

_I pull it out while fiddling with my lock, unlocking the door just as I get it out of my pocket._

“I had fun tonight. Regular thing maybe? And don’t think you’re getting out of making me tea now that you mentioned you’re a master tea maker.” –Simmons

_The texting app. S.A.M._

I got Simmons’ number.

_Huh._


End file.
